Chapter 30: Cracks
970 Words
If you asked anyone at Kingsley Academy who had the perfect life, they'd probably say Ethan Blackwood.
The answer came easily.
Too easily.
Rich parents. Top grades. A mansion. Expensive cars. A future already waiting for him.
People saw the finished picture.
Nobody looked close enough to notice the cracks.
The school day ended just after three. While most students rushed toward waiting drivers and luxury cars, Ethan headed toward the parking lot, where his family's black SUV was already waiting.
As soon as he got in, his phone buzzed.
A message from Liam.
Still alive?
Ethan smirked.
Unfortunately.
A second message arrived instantly.
How's married life with Ava?
Ethan immediately locked his phone.
Some people didn't deserve technology.
The drive home took almost forty minutes. During that time, Ethan finished reviewing notes for an upcoming test, replied to two emails from a debate coach, and reviewed part of the project report.
By the time the car reached the Blackwood estate, he'd already done more work than most students did in an entire evening.
And his day was far from over.
The gates opened automatically.
The mansion appeared beyond them, standing proudly against the evening sky.
It looked like something from a magazine.
Three floors.
Massive windows.
Perfect gardens.
Perfect lighting.
Perfect everything.
Visitors always stared when they saw it.
Ethan never did.
To him, it was just a building.
A very expensive building.
Inside, several housekeepers moved quietly through the hallways.
Everything was spotless.
Everything was organized.
Everything felt strangely lifeless.
Ethan handed his bag to a staff member and headed upstairs.
Before he reached the second floor, a voice stopped him.
"Ethan."
He already knew who it was.
His father stood near the staircase, dressed in a dark suit despite being home.
Richard Blackwood looked less like a father and more like a businessman who occasionally remembered he had a son.
"Good afternoon, sir."
His father nodded.
"I received a call from Kingsley."
Ethan felt his stomach tighten slightly.
Never a good sign.
"They mentioned your project."
"Yes, sir."
"The teacher seemed impressed."
Ethan waited.
Because there was always more.
There was always something after the compliment.
"Don't get distracted."
There it was.
Ethan almost smiled.
Predictable.
"Yes, sir."
"The final rankings matter more."
"Yes, sir."
"And I expect you to finish first."
"Yes, sir."
The conversation lasted less than a minute.
It somehow felt much longer.
His father checked his watch.
"I have a meeting."
Of course.
He always did.
Then he walked away.
No good job.
No congratulations.
No how was your day.
Just expectations.
Always expectations.
Ethan finally escaped to his room.
The space was enormous.
A large desk overlooked the garden. Shelves displayed trophies from academic competitions, debate championships, and sports events.
Anyone entering the room would think Ethan had everything figured out.
They'd be wrong.
---
He dropped into a chair and opened his laptop.
A few minutes later, another message appeared.
This time from Noah.
Did Ava survive today?
Ethan rolled his eyes.
Why wouldn't she?
The typing bubble appeared immediately.
You spend enough time annoying her. Just checking.
Ethan considered throwing his phone out the window.
An hour later, he headed downstairs for dinner.
The dining room could comfortably seat twelve people.
Only three chairs were occupied.
His mother sat at one end scrolling through emails.
His father sat at the other speaking on a phone call.
Neither noticed Ethan enter.
---
He took his seat.
A servant poured water.
His father continued discussing business.
His mother continued typing.
The silence felt heavier than any argument.
Eventually, the phone call ended.
His father finally looked up.
"How is your partner contributing to the project?"
Not how is the project going?
Not are you managing okay?
Straight to performance.
Straight to results.
---
"She's doing her part."
His mother raised an eyebrow.
"The scholarship student?"
Ethan nodded.
"She's very capable."
The words escaped before he thought about them.
Both parents looked surprised.
So was he.
His father returned to his meal.
"Good."
His mother sipped her drink.
"Just make sure you stay focused."
Ethan knew what she meant.
Not on the project.
Not on school.
On winning.
Always winning.
---
Ten minutes later, his father stood.
Another call.
Another meeting.
Another place to be.
His mother left shortly after for a charity event.
Within minutes, the dining room was empty again.
Except for Ethan.
---
A servant approached.
"Would you like anything else, sir?"
Ethan glanced around the room.
At the empty chairs.
The untouched food.
The silence.
"No thanks."
The woman nodded sympathetically before leaving.
For a while, he remained there alone.
His gaze drifted toward the large windows overlooking the city lights.
The mansion was beautiful.
No one could deny that.
But lately, Ethan had started noticing something.
The house never felt like a home.
Homes were warm.
Homes were noisy.
Homes were filled with people who wanted to be there.
This place felt more like a museum.
Expensive.
Impressive.
Cold.
Without meaning to, he remembered Ava talking about missing a bus because a project meeting ran late.
He remembered her rushing to pack her things every afternoon.
He remembered how excited she looked whenever she talked about keeping her scholarship.
Small things.
Unimportant things.
Yet somehow they stayed with him.
---
A strange thought crossed his mind.
Ava's apartment was probably tiny compared to this mansion.
Older.
Noisier.
Less comfortable.
And yet...
For some reason, Ethan suspected she'd choose it over this place every single time.
The thought lingered long after dinner ended.
Long after the lights dimmed.
Long after the house became quiet.
Because beneath all the wealth, success, and perfection, Ethan was beginning to realize something he rarely allowed himself to admit.
Sometimes, the loneliest place in the world was a house full of everything except warmth.
- Writer
